


ain’t i fallen in love?

by benitato



Series: killugon? killugon. [8]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friends to ?, Hurt/Comfort, Killugon goes to prom! AU, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining! Killugon, killugon slow dancing is my one sole weakness watch me exploit it, onesided (or is it)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 05:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16968615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benitato/pseuds/benitato
Summary: Killua had a feeling he wouldn’t have minded the constant teasing much were he not actually in love with his best friend.And he was. In love, that is.(or “what’s the worst that could go wrong when your best friend/unrequited love of your life asks you to go to prom but totally in a platonic way”)





	ain’t i fallen in love?

**Author's Note:**

> HENLO YES I KNOW this oneshot was originally part of my collection of fics (where Gon ended and Killua began) which I’ve since removed, but if it’s a crime to revive this work because I think it’s the best one I’ve made yet and that it deserves more love then SUE ME LOL 
> 
> Anyways, Killugon goes to Prom AU! Because it’s a cute. Listen to [this](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ZGQnlOCV0iU) when you get to the dancing part (I love this song so much). That is all I’m willing to divulge.

 

“Well, this is stupid.”

 

  
Killua leaned against the wall, complaining to nobody in particular. From a safe distance, he eyed the mob of gown-clad girls and their formally attired escorts, swaying to the poor choice of music. Only a few stragglers were left near the punch table, including Killua.

  
A few girls passed by his corner and cooed at him, batting eyelashes so obviously fake and long they could’ve fanned the flush creeping up his neck.

  
“Hey, it’s Killua, right?” One of the girls sashayed her way to him, twirling a stray curl around a finger.

  
Killua raised an eyebrow but nodded. He focused on his drink in hopes that they’d just back off, running his fingers along the rim of the cup.

  
No such luck. “Wanna dance with me?” The girl crooned, every move deliberate and flirtatious. The group of girls behind her were giggling loudly and gasping at her audacity. The lone guys at the punch table were staring daggers at Killua, daring him to decline the offer they’d have accepted in a second, had they been in his place.

  
“No, thank you,” Killua replied coolly, “I don’t dance with anyone.”

  
“Except with his boyfriend!” One of the girls blurted out, laughing. He didn’t know her name, but he recognized her as one of the spotters from the cheerleading squad. Killua could feel angry, red splotches blooming in his cheeks, and he was glad for the cover the darkness provided.

  
“At least I have one— where’s yours?” Playing along, Killua smirked, already knowing the answer. _Messing around with the head cheerleader in the parking lot, most likely._

  
She snarled, doll-face transforming into something feral in a matter of seconds. She grabbed the arm of the girl talking to Killua just minutes ago, and after spitting out a particularly nasty adjective, led them stomping back to the dance floor. Killua sighed in mixed relief and exasperation. He didn’t know why he’d let himself get dragged to prom in the first place.

  
Actually, scratch that— he _did_ know why.

 

_“Gon, this is the stupidest idea you’ve had yet— and some of your ideas have gotten us to the emergency room. Twice.”_

_  
Killua adjusted the cufflinks on his suit, gave himself a once-over in the full-length mirror in Gon’s bedroom, and when he thought he looked acceptable enough, flopped down on the mattress with a grunt. “I still don’t get why I have to go.”_

_  
“‘Prom is an essential part of an adolescent’s social life!’” Gon yelled from the bathroom he was dressing up in, obviously quoting Mito’s reaction when Killua expressed his distaste in going to the dance._

_  
“Besides—“ Gon was about to add more, but a_ crash! _from the bathroom, the noise made louder by echo-inducing tiles, cut off his sentence. Killua let out a snicker._

_  
“Um, Killua? I need help.” A grunt, followed by another crash, ensued._

_“Gon, I swear, if you’re stuck in the bathtub again—“_

_“No! It’s— ugh, I’m going over there.” The sound of footsteps drawing near had Killua mentally preparing himself for whatever damage Gon might have done this time._

_  
What he wasn’t prepared for was how Gon would_ look _, bathed in the pale golden sunlight filtered by fluttering curtains._

_  
Killua looked away quickly from Gon’s slightly toned frame, made impossibly more slim by the contrasting black and white of the suit, because the last thing he wanted to do was fall harder and god help him if he wasn’t already spiraling down and the question to be asked wasn’t “Will I fall?” it was “How hard will I crash?”._

_  
It certainly didn’t help that his best friend was so fucking attractive it hurt to look at._

 

_“I mean, it is kinda my first time wearing something like... this, but do I really look that hideous?” Gon laughed._

_“Puts Quasimodo to shame,” Killua replied, not looking up as he brushed off non-existent particles of dust from a spotless white dress shirt._

_“Ouch. You look great, too, Killua.”_

_“Everybody looks good in a tuxedo.”_

_“So does that mean—“_

_“No.”_

_“Killua...”_

_“What now, Gon?”_

_“I don’t know how to tie this,” Gon laughed sheepishly and gestured at what appeared to be a half-hearted attempt at a bow tie slung loosely around his neck._

_  
Killua stood up and sighed, motioning for Gon to come closer with a finger. He took both ends of the bow tie, and started working. Noting that their faces were merely centimeters apart, Killua tried not to look too breathless or too flustered or too anything that might give him away._

_  
“If you can’t tie a simple knot, how’re you going to survive?” Killua said softly, almost to himself, as his fingers brushed against the stiff white of Gon’s dress shirt._

_“With you, of course.” Gon’s naive answer both irritated and melted Killua._

_“I’m not going to be here forever, idiot.” But even as he said it, Killua knew it wasn’t partly true— he’d stay by Gon’s side, not forever, but the version of forever their world allowed._

_“There, it’s done.” Killua tugged on the ends and admiringly surveyed his work with a satisfied air. He looked at his friend for any sort of feedback._

_Gon was staring at him._

_“What?” Killua tried to sound normal as he swallowed hard around the lump in his throat._

_“I was thinking that I didn’t want to be without you.” Gon said, an open, almost childlike honesty in his voice._

_For some reason, this only served to anger Killua. Gon obviously had no idea how much his blunt words affected the people around him._

_Affected Killua._

_And it just wasn’t fair._

_“You’ll have to get used to it, then. Let’s go, registration starts at 7.” Killua smoothly went out the bedroom. He didn’t look back._

 

He thought about the cheerleader’s comment. Gon Freecss and boyfriend were words often strung together and not so subtly thrown at Killua. He actually couldn’t believe how narrow-minded these people were— that they assumed two boys weren’t capable of having a completely platonic relationship on both sides.

 

Well, on Gon’s side, at least.

 

He had a feeling he wouldn’t have minded the constant teasing much were he not actually in love with his best friend.

 

And he was. In love, that is.

 

“ _No, you’re not,_ ” Killua murmured to himself, as if by saying those words repeatedly would make them true. And he repeated those same words to himself when the pretty, shy girl in their Literature class who’d been eyeing Gon asked him to waltz just hours ago. He repeated them as he watched Gon and the fair-haired girl make their way across the room. He repeated them as he looked away, not wanting to see the two move with a grace no other couples possessed.

  
This wasn’t how he wanted to spend prom— watching the person he could never have get swept away by someone else’s love in the guise of a pretty question.

  
Killua checked his wristwatch; it read a quarter past ten. The chaperones were either all tipsy by now, or asleep face-down on the wine-red tablecloths. _Some prestigious school_ , Killua snorted. At least he could sneak out and go home. Gon was still nowhere to be found, presumably still dancing and possibly head over heels by now. Killua supposed he could last a night without him. He was almost to the doors when he heard a quiet—

 

“Killua?”

 

The said boy groaned inwardly. He knew that voice. He turned around.

  
Gon was standing not a foot away from him, almost a silhouette in the dim light, but it only served to emphasize the gold flecks in his tawny eyes. Killua swallowed hard, still not used to seeing his best friend dressed up, and now it had his mouth drier than the Sahara. Gon looked a little too good in the tuxedo that fit him a little too well, hair disastrously spiky and all over the place. He moved closer, and Killua prayed to the heavens in hopes that Gon wouldn’t hear how loud his heartbeat was.

  
“Were you leaving?”

 

“Obviously,” Killua snapped.

 

“Why?” Gon asked.

 

“You left me _alone_ , Gon,” Killua realized a second too late that his choice of words might not have been the best. “ _Wait_ ,” he backtracked hastily, “that’s not what I—“

 

“Does that mean you _missed_ me?” A lazy grin was starting to break out on Gon’s face, and Killua forced his hands to stay still in fear of smacking the tan boy or doing _something else_ he most definitely would regret.

 

“I meant you left me alone, after _forcing me to come with you here_ , and some girls tried to get me to dance with them,” Killua shuddered at the thought.

 

“And you didn’t say yes because—?”

 

“I don’t dance, Gon,” Killua said flatly.

 

“You don’t? Or you won’t?” Gon’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Or is it that you _can’t?_ ”

 

“I’m going home,” Killua deadpanned.

 

“But we haven’t even danced!” Gon protested.

 

“The _hell_ do you mean? You’ve danced with almost everyone in this building— _including the teachers,_ ” Killua retorted, trying his best not to sound too irritated.

 

“I meant I haven’t danced with _you_ yet, Killua,” Gon said softly.

 

“Where’s your partner, anyway?” Killua scoffed, but he was honestly worried that he might fall over if any more impulsive words come out of Gon’s mouth.

 

“Somewhere,” Gon waved a hand carelessly.

 

“If there was an exam for prom etiquette, you’d get a failing grade,” Killua muttered.

 

“Dance with me?” Gon started to hold out a hand in invitation, lowered it on second thought, and instead moved closer to Killua, tawny eyes pleading. Why was he so _persistent_ anyway?

 

Killua stopped breathing for a second, willing the butterflies in his stomach to stop flying around in a frenzy. “ _Idiot_ ,” he said tiredly, rubbing a hand across his face. “We can’t.”

 

“Why not?” Gon asked defiantly.

 

“We’re both guys, _moron_ ,” Killua groaned. He could already feel himself moving forward against his will to where the lights flashed brightest. _To Gon_.

 

“We’re _best friends_ who came to have a good time at prom and _not mind anybody who tells us otherwise_ ,” Gon corrected him firmly.

 

 _Friends_. Once, maybe four years ago, when all he had to fear were scraped knees and losing a foot race, that word would have been enough for Killua, but now it only tasted bitter and sharp in his mouth.

  
He wanted _more_. More of this strange, wonderful tightness in his chest that he felt whenever he was with Gon. But wanting what you could not have only led to madness and misery, and it seemed to Killua that he himself wasn’t far off from that path.

 

“Killua?”

 

“Everyone thinks we’re a couple, Gon,” Killua said resignedly, not knowing how else to put it. He would’ve been embarrassed were he not so tired.

 

“I know,” Gon replied simply.

 

_What—_

 

“Wait, you know? Doesn’t it bother you?” Killua practically stumbled over his words.

 

“Should it? I mean, does it bother _you_?” Gon shrugged, as if it really were that simple.

 

“I—hmm.” Killua frowned. He knew that trying to argue with Gon’s logic was a futile task. A hand grabbed Killua’s, pulling him to where the music played loudest.

 

“Come on, or we’ll miss out.” Gon grinned wildly, teeth gleaming white in the shadows, tawny eyes burning almost gold. “Just follow me there.”

 

  
_I’d follow you anywhere,_ Killua thought bitterly.

 

“Yeah,” he sighed instead.

 

For one night. He would give himself this _one night,_ allow his limbs to move themselves and trust his feet not to stumble.

 

For one night, _he could have this_.

 

As they reached the dance floor, the music segued into something soft and slow, but the pulse ringing in Killua’s ears had a beat of its own, drowning out the ballad played through the speakers. He looked at Gon, and down at his feet. Killua’s hands hung limply at his sides, knowing that what he wanted to do with them and what he was _supposed_ to do with them were two different things.

  
“Killua? Something wrong?”

 

“No, it’s just—“ Killua awkwardly motioned to his hands, “I don’t know what to do with... _these_.”

 

Gon stared at him for a while, corners of his mouth twitching, before bursting out into peals of laughter. Still smiling, he reached out for both of Killua’s hands, and— _was he imagining it, or were Gon’s fingers trembling?_ — guided them to rest behind his neck.

  
Gon’s calloused hands found their way to Killua’s middle, settling somewhere between his hips and waist, gripping them with a certainty that left Killua breathless— as if Gon knew this was what he wanted to do.

  
A prickling heat ran down the back of Killua’s neck, and even though he knew they were practically invisible in the mass of moving feet and bodies, he couldn’t help but feel so _exposed_.

  
Killua couldn’t force down a shudder of mortification. “Gon, there are people _watching_.”

 

“Then don’t look at them— _look at me_ ,” Gon ordered.

 

As if reacting to Gon’s words, the butterflies in Killua’s stomach were sent flying into a frenzy again. _It wasn’t fair._

  
They swayed comfortably to a soft, indie rock ballad that had incredible riffs, lilting strings, and vocals that made it sound somewhat like a lullaby. It sounded lively and melancholy at the same time.

  
A loud cheering sound ensued from the other side of the room, and they both turned to see what had caused it. Their chaperones, earlier incapacitated and strewn across the tables, had now gotten up to dance, earning a few whoops from the crowd of students. This amused Killua to no end; he turned back to Gon to comment about the humorous scene.

  
Instead, the intensity of Gon’s stare stole all the words on the tip of Killua’s tongue. Killua opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ —

  
“So, uh, where’s the girl you danced with?” Killua might’ve imagined it, but Gon leaned back a bit, looking at him with an inscrutable expression.

 

“Left her hours ago. Hopefully she got home safely.”

 

Killua frowned. “Wait, _left_ her?”

 

“Yeah, she, uh—“ Gon laughed sheepishly, looking at their feet, “— she asked me if I was, in anyway, interested. _In her._ Because apparently _she_ was. Interested. In me. Had been ever since the first day of Literature class. And apparently a few other girls did, as well. I honestly couldn’t tell.” He said all this with such a good-natured tone that it didn’t come off as conceited.

  
Killua snorted; only Gon would fail to notice that half of the class was in love with him. But the real question remained to be asked.

  
“Then what’d you say?” Killua meant to ask casually, but instead he hoped that the way he whispered it did not betray his intentions. He let his eyes wander around the room because he knew if they looked directly at Gon, they would speak plainly of heartache and suspense.

 

Killua felt Gon’s shrug under his fingers. “I apologized, and said I couldn’t seem to reciprocate what she felt.“

 

Killua let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “That’s— but you— how could you _dance_ with her after saying that? You could’ve at least waited.”

 

“I didn’t dance with her, Killua.”

 

_Oh—_

 

Killua couldn’t process what was happening. “I saw you. You two. Across the—“

 

“But did you see us _dancing?_ ” Gon inquired, eyes bright and secretive of something Killua wanted to find out. 

 

Killua thought about it for a second.

 

“Um, yes?”

 

“You can’t answer a question with another question, Killua.” Gon laughed— a high, carefree sound that made something in Killua’s chest constrict. The motion brought their faces closer, breaths mixing in the shallow air between their mouths.

 

“Fine, then.” Killua grumbled, trying hard not to sound pleased at being proven wrong. _Gon didn’t dance with whatsername._ “But what did you say instead? Nothing too blunt, I hope,” Killua added.

 

Another shrug from Gon. “I told her I didn’t like dancing.”

 

Killua swallowed thickly and looked down at their feet, moving perfectly in sync, as if they’d been taught how to dance only together their whole lives. He took note of how natural Gon’s hands felt around his middle and how _his_ hands locked easily behind Gon’s neck. “Well,” Killua frowned, “You don’t seem to dislike it now.”

 

Gon inched closer by a few millimeters, forehead resting against Killua’s. A knowing grin was starting to tug on the corners of the tan boy’s lips. “No,” Gon confessed, “I don’t dislike it at all.”

 

“Then why— _oh_.”

 

Oh.

 

“You— you shouldn’t— I—“ Killua was grasping for words the way a dying man might gasp for air.

 

 

“Killua—“

 

 

“This isn’t—“ Killua trembled.

 

 

“Killua—“

 

 

“I—“

 

 

“ _You talk too much, Killua._ ” Gon whispered, moving forward still.

 

The flashing strobe lights made everything look surreal and delayed by a fraction of a second, so Killua almost missed it when Gon closed his eyes, leaned forward, and captured Killua’s lips in a kiss that had been overdue for four years.

  
Killua’d always had his words— snarky insults, backhanded comments, angry retorts, and the like— and they had never failed him before, never failed to make their presence known.

 

But the moment Gon pressed his lips to his own, Killua was stunned into stupor of silence.

 

 _Oh_.

 

Killua understood it, but his body and mind couldn’t. _It was too much_ , they seemed to decide. This was four years of hoping and aching enacted in the spur of a moment, and Killua’s body and mind deemed it too good to be true. Killua waited for the terrible transition from here to reality, as it always did in his daydreams.

  
But the only things that followed were Gon’s hands pulling Killua closer, trying to erase the nonexistent spaces between their bodies and mouths, and Killua’s fingers threading in Gon’s soft, dark hair, tugging determinedly.

  
Nails scraped the nape of Gon’s neck, inducing a low gasp from the tan boy, and Killua opened his mouth to swallow it.

  
When they finally pulled away, breathless, eyes shining, foreheads resting against each other, the first thing Gon did was laugh. Killua could feel Gon’s breath wash over his lips, and it was all he could do not to lean forward again.

  
“That was so overdue,” Gon grinned.

 

“You can’t even imagine,” Killua agreed breathlessly. “So much explaining to do...”

 

“Yeah,” Gon sighed.

 

“No, I meant _you_ , moron,” Killua snorted. “You’ve never— I didn’t— You haven’t—“

 

“Never what? Confessed to my best friend, who I ultimately thought had no reciprocal feelings for me until tonight? That is,” Gon looked down, “I mean, if you do.”

 

Killua’s chest constricted with a good kind of pain, the kind of pain that left you breathless in the discovery of something you thought was untrue.

 

“ _Idiot_ ,” Killua murmured, heart aching. “I already went to prom with you— I’m not going to make a sappy confession letter saying how much I love—“

  
Oh, _shit_.

 

“Wait, I meant—“ Killua began, but he was cut off a pleasant interruption— Gon’s lips crashed once more against his, and Killua lost the ability to formulate coherent words, the only sound he could manage was a humming deep in his throat as Gon pulled away minutely and kissed Killua’s mouth over and over again.

 

“You’re,” Killua breathed as Gon’s lips moved to the corner of his mouth, “An idiot.”

 

“Yeah?” Gon murmured against pale skin.

 

“ _Yeah_ ,” Killua struggled to keep a tremor out of his voice. “Why do you think I like you so much?”

 

“You’ve gotta stop doing that,” Gon groaned. “We’re in public!”

 

“Doing what?” Killua blinked in confusion.

 

“Saying things that make me want to kiss you.”

 

Killua would rather _die_ than admit that those blunt words had his heart stopping for a second. So he masked his swooning with a smirk and said “Can’t promise anything, Freecss.”

 

“There you go again,” Gon sighed in mock-exasperation. But Killua made no move to stop him when Gon leaned in to press their lips together once more. It was more of smashing their smiles against one another, really, but Killua didn’t think he ever wanted to stop. He didn’t want to open his eyes anymore, because he was familiar with the drill when it came to daydreams. He didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want to have to lose this all over again because _he didn’t think he could take it_. 

 

But when he opened his eyes, Gon was still standing there, radiant as the day and as heartbreaking as the end of one. 

 

  
Killua decided maybe prom wasn’t so stupid after all.

 


End file.
